


Rainfall

by MercuryMcGee



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (but theyre lesbians), F/F, First Meetings, Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25484893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMcGee/pseuds/MercuryMcGee
Summary: A chance meeting upon the walls of Eden
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 6





	Rainfall

**Author's Note:**

> hello gang  
> so im not.....really into good omens anymore, but i feel bad leaving this unpublished bc it was orginally gonna be a gift for a friend - so yes, its unfinished but its on here now yay.

It started on the wall above the eastern gate of The Garden of Eden. 

Despite the day’s events, the sun shone gently down through the gathering clouds, illuminating a figure clad in all white within its warm light. Stretched out behind her were wings of the purest white – feathers ruffled in the late day breeze. She sighs deeply, a concerned frown decorating her features as she stares pensively out onto the empty deserts that surround the garden.

The sensation of scales curling against the soft flesh of her newly-issued corporation breaks her from her reverie and she yelps in surprise, launching herself up from her perch on the wall with a few rapid beats of her wings. She looks down sheepishly at the wall she was perched upon then, seeing only a snake – its dark scales opalescent in the light of the sun. It blinks up at the angel with a pair of golden eyes and Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh at her overreaction. 

She lands daintily beside the creature, neatly folding her legs underneath herself as she unceremoniously plops down beside the reptile, extending a hand to pat underneath its chin. Adorably, the snake wriggles closer to her, seemingly leaning into the angel’s soft touch.

“I’m afraid things really have gone downhill, my dear.” She muses aloud, resuming her vigil over the constantly shifting sands and, more importantly, the two humans who wandered through it with none but the angel’s own flaming sword as a means of defence.

“Seems that way, yes.”

Not exactly expecting a reply, the angel jerks her hand away from the snake that was lounging by her side, scrambling to her feet as she watched the reptile take on a more human form – black feathered wings stretched out behind her as she sits back, practically basking in the swiftly weakening rays of sun.

“Oh, sit down, would you?” the demon speaks, fixing serpentine eyes on the angel. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk.” She emphasises, combing a hand through her russet locks, brushing them haphazardly behind a pointed ear. “Go on.” She smiles, patting the ground beside her, looking expectantly up at the angel.

A token grimace of protest crosses the angel’s face before she huffs, plopping herself down beside the demon once more.

“I take it this was your demonic work?” the angel questions after a period of silence.

“It was, yes.” The other replies, but without the sense of smug satisfaction that the angel would have expected. Instead, she looked rather downcast, worrying at her lip with pointed teeth.  
“Why so glum?” Aziraphale questions after a beat. “I would have expected you to be proud – the first humans, tempted to sin in a matter of days.” 

“It was too easy.” Comes the simple reply. “You’d think that if She didn’t want it to happen, She’d have put the blessed Tree somewhere harder to find y’know?” she continues, turning to gesture at the Tree as if it had offended her. 

Aziraphale, ever the diplomat, chose this moment to step in before a certain Tree of Knowledge was reduced to an Ash Pile of Knowledge. “There is a reason behind everything She does, even if we may not understand it.” The angel defends. “It’s ineffable.”

“Ineffable, right.” The demon agrees dumbly, turning back to stare out across the desert sands, eyes narrowing as she spots the two figures stumbling through the dunes – her traitorous heart tightening stubbornly as she saw the man – Adam, engaging in some rather amateur self-defence from a lion that the pair had managed to provoke.   
In and of itself, this wasn’t unusual – it certainly wouldn’t do to have the first humans eaten on their first day out of the garden, after-all. What was unusual, however, was that Adam’s choice of weapon was a flaming sword.   
“Y-. Uh. Your sword?” The demon finally manages to articulate after a few aborted attempts, amber eyes drifting upwards to search the angel’s face for an answer.

“Yes, about that…” the angel trails off, tucking curled white-blonde hair behind her ear. “I was worried, you see, about them, I mean.” Comes her stuttered reply. When she receives naught but stunned silence in reply, her cheeks heat up, turning a bright red. “She’s with child already, I couldn’t just leave them without protection!” the angel huffs, gesturing at the couple in a wide sweep of her arm. Her rosy lips break into a pout as she breaks eye contact, focusing instead on examining the folds of her robes. 

Now, Crawley hadn’t had a working heart for very long at all, but she was almost sure that it should not have been beating at this rate - a rapid drumbeat that only seemed to increase in tempo the longer she allowed herself to examine the angel’s troubled expression. It was almost as if she was expecting to be admonished.   
The realisation sends a decidedly undemonic spark of sympathy through the demon’s system and she huffs, suddenly desperate to console a being who should have been her enemy.  
“If it means anything…” the demon starts, forcing her gaze to focus on the horizon “…I think you did the right thing, giving them that sword.”

“You think so?” she asks, worrying at her lip. 

“I do. They’re lucky to have you. Um.” the demon stops, searching her memories to find the angel’s name.

“Aziraphale. My name, it’s Aziraphale.” 

“Aziraphale, then.” The demon replies. “I’m Crawley. Should I say that it’s nice to meet you?” 

“Better not.” The angel smiles, trying (and failing) to withhold an amused giggle.  
The first ever raindrop chooses this moment to fall, drawing both beings’ attention and cutting the shared moment short. Reflexively, Aziraphale raises her wing, a makeshift shield against the coming storm. The demon - Crawley, she reminds herself, shuffles gracelessly closer - and together they watch the first rain begin to fall.

-


End file.
